


Case of Strippers and Stalkers

by phoenixreal



Category: Bleach, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Ichigo, Demisexual Ichigo, Demisexual Sherlock, F/F, F/M, Graphic Description, Hostage Situations, Hurt Sherlock, Kidnapping, Lemon, M/M, Obsession, Psychological Torture, Rape, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Stalking, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Torture, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixreal/pseuds/phoenixreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Setting: Sherlock's London. Ichigo is a stripper at Las Noches being stalked, and his boss Shinji calls in an old friend to go undercover to find the culprit before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Interesting Client at 221B

**Author's Note:**

> I can haz all the clichés? Yes, here I am AGAIN and got another idea. While keeping you guys sated with blatant SMUT every chapter in Unexpected Kingdoms, I came up with this idea for a crossover. It contains all the cliché characters that I can come up with:  
> Gay Strip/Drag Club Owner Shinji  
> "Straight" Ichigo as a performer who isn't really straight  
> Stalker bad guy  
> Undercover John and Sherlock  
> Eventual kidnapping of Ichigo by his stalker  
> So yeah, all the cliché, and all been done, but what the heck? Not like I write for you people! Okay, yes I do, but whatevers.
> 
> Warnings: Only on the first chapter, so read it well. Torture (sexual and otherwise), language, strippers, lemons, smutty smut, voyeurism, yaoi (slash), yuri (femslash), het, non-consensual stuffs, and….might add more later.
> 
> Constructive critic accepted (gladly, unless it is about it being cliché, and then I say I warned you!). Flames shall be used to roast chickens for the after party.
> 
> As usual, I don't own Sherlock or Bleach, and I sure don't get paid for this! (I wish, I'd write all damn day if I did).
> 
> Setting: Takes place in the Sherlock universe in London. The club is a Japanese themed strip/drag club in London. Takes place sometime after The Sign of Three, some messing with timeline.
> 
> Pairings: Sherlock/Ichigo
> 
> Contains: BAMF!John, BAMF!Shinji, Abused!Ichigo, Asexual!Ichigo, Ichigo and Sherlock WHUMP. :)
> 
> I may or may not continue, but the idea was burning up my head at five am so I had to put it down. Don't know if anyone likes it or not!

"John!" came Mary's sleep fuzzed voice beside him. He sighed, drawing himself out of a rather comfortable sleep, something rare for the man riddled with nightmares after coming home from Afghanistan. He groaned and saw his wife holding his mobile in front of him. "John, it's Sherlock."

"John!" came the excited voice on the other end.

"What is it, Sherlock?" he said with a bleary fuzz to his voice. Dammit, the night before Sherlock had kept him and Mary up late with that stupid sonic experiment before he left, and now, he groaned, as he saw that it was half an hour until eight of the morning. He'd had about five hours sleep all told. Life with Sherlock was never boring. Even when he wasn't even living with bloody Sherlock anymore.

"We have a client coming in at eight! I got a message from the website from an old friend of mine, and he's coming by in…" He paused. "In thirty minutes so get dressed and get over here! Quickly, John! We're going to his club with him!"

John groaned. "I'm not going without my tea, first," he grumbled, slamming the phone to the side table and headed to the shower, leaving his wife chuckling to herself in the bed.

"Have fun, he sounds excited!" she said with a smile to her voice.

Less than twenty minutes later, he was in Baker St and had just started making tea when there was a knock at the door. Sherlock answered it and led someone upstairs and when they got there he took a double take. John had to wonder where Sherlock knew this person from…

The man was tall and thin, though shorter than Sherlock. He had straight blonde hair with bangs cut at an angle across his forehead nearly concealing one eye and cropped below his jawline. He had a wide smile. His clothes, however, were what drew attention. He wore a pair of tight leather pants with sparkling glitter in the material and a tight black t-shirt with a stylized skull on the front. And he wore heeled boots, stiletto heeled boots, and carried a bright pink messenger bag across his body.

"Sherly! Been too long," he said and planted a kiss on Sherlock's cheek. "Missed ya," he smiled and sat down on the couch, crossing his legs at the ankles and sitting up straight. Dancer? John came into the room and sat in his chair with his tea.

Sherlock grinned at John. "Dr. John Watson, this is my friend Shinji Hirako. He runs the club called Las Noches downtown. And he messaged me that he has a little problem at his club. Want to tell me about it?" Sherlock asked, sitting beside him.

"Of course, Sherly. I have a lot of talent, straight and not, of course, and some of my boys who claim to be straight, aren't. Some of my girls too. One of those is a boy I just hired about six months ago named Ichigo Kurosaki. Ichi-berry is one of those so deep in the closet he can't reach the doorway but damn does he make an amazing stripper and drag queen," Shinji said with a smile. "He claims to do it because it's fun, and he really isn't interested in romance at all."

"Wait, what kind of club is this?" John asked, putting the cup in the saucer carefully.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Obviously a gay strip club, John, really, weren't you listening?"

John cleared his throat and sipped his tea again as though discussing a gay strip club was a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday morning. "Oh, carry on."

Shinji winked at him and grinned again. "Well, the problem is, I think he's got a stalker. He tries to tell me it's nothing, but it is enough that some of the others came to me telling me they were worried for him. Mysterious text messages when he has a private mobile, letters and gifts showing up in his room at the club and his house, seemingly star struck obsession, I know, but I worry because he isn't."

"So you want me to investigate?" Sherlock asked, his grin widened. He hadn't had a good stalker case in a while.

"It would mean going undercover again, my dear," Shinji said with a smile. "You did such a good job last time…I figured it didn't hurt to ask. Besides, I miss seeing that tight ass of yours in the leather I bought you."

"Wait, what?" John said. "You went undercover at a gay club?"

Sherlock nodded. "There was a strange amount of alcohol going missing. Found out someone was selling out the back. Rooted them out after a while."

Shinji stood. "I'll take you there; will your boyfriend be coming?"

"I'm not his boyfriend," John said automatically, standing up. Sherlock didn't comment. "Not gay! In fact, married." John insisted.

Shinji eyed him and smirked. "Okay, honey. Sure. Well, Sherly, can you take a bartending spot and then I'll give a bouncer spot to John-boy? It won't seem suspicious, I need both. Maybe I can tempt you on stage again…you know they loved it when you danced for them."

"Yes, well, we'll see. Should I change or is the club empty this time of day?" Sherlock asked, standing. "I mean, I have nothing right now…except the clothes we bought when I did this before…"

Shinji shook his head. "My head bouncer is there waiting on us, and that's it, and we can go in the back. I brought my car, love. Come on, there doctor Johnny…" he said, winking at John.

John shook his head and followed Sherlock and Shinji down and out the door to a bright red sporty car. John ambled into the small backseat and was glad, for once, of his height. Shinji hopped in and they headed off. Luckily, Shinji was a good driver, despite the fact that most Londoners were completely insane drivers. Before long they pulled into a spot in an alley in one of the downtown areas, he thought Camden Court was nearby if he wasn't mistaken. They got out and went in the back door to find themselves in the typical back area of a club. Cases of alcohol, bar foods, and glassware were stacked on shelves. They headed into the front and it was huge. Open dance floor on one side, the other had a stage with a runway and stripper pole at the end of it, and all around the stripper stage were tables and chairs set up. They walked up to the door beside the stage and headed back to what appeared to be the dressing area for the stage.

"Grimmy!" called Shinji.

"What is it, Shin?" came a gruff reply high above them.

"That detective is here, want to talk to him, hot stuff?" he yelled.

"Yeah, let me get the wiring on this security camera finished."

John followed the voice and saw movement up in the rafters. Finally he followed the shape to a ladder, where a man in blue jeans and a white t-shirt with the world SECURITY in black across the back came down. He wiped hands on his jeans and came over. He had spiky baby blue hair, making John blink.

"Gods, Grimmy-baby, when you gonna take me out?" Shinji purred, putting an arm around the man's waist. "I'd let you have your way with me…" he purred. "Six ways from Sunday, sugar."

"Grimmy" shook his head. "Um hum, and how would your lifetime lover feel about that? I doubt that Kensei would like us fucking behind his back."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'd have him join us…" Shinji teased as they got to where John and Sherlock were waiting.

"Grimmjow Jagerjaquez," he said, shaking hands with both of them. "Ignore my boss; he's always tryin' ta get in my pants. Unfortunately, I'm taken at the moment."

Shinji put on a pout. "Not my fault you're one sexy bastard. I'll tempt you to the dark side one of these days…"

"Anyway, Shin says that you helped him out before, Sherlock, right?" he asked, looking at the brunette detective.

"Yes, I did."

"You sure you can handle undercover here? I mean, no offense, but you seem a little proper…" Grimmjow said, eyeing Sherlock and then John. "And your boyfriend here looks really out of place."

"Not his boyfriend! Not gay! If anyone cares," John said, exasperated by everyone assuming as such. And with Sherlock not correcting them. For godssakes he was even married now!

Grimmjow laughed. "Sorry, I just assumed if you were with Sherlock here, from what Shinji said about him…I mean, man he was a hot number from what I hear…"

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm very good at acting, Grimmjow. Do not worry. The person that comes to tend bar this evening will be nigh unrecognizable. As will John here. But we're putting him with you on Security, so he won't have to act so out of character. He is, after all, ex-military."

Grimmjow nodded. "Know how to handle yerself?" he asked.

"I was a medic, but I did my tour overseas and had hand to hand training, and more experience than I'd like," John said with a sharp nod of his head to the much taller man.

A few more plans were made, and the pair set off back to Baker Street. John had a black t-shirt with SECURITY in white letters on the back and the club logo on the front. Sherlock headed into his room to figure out what he'd wear to tend the bar that night. John called Mary to let her know what was going on. She wished him luck. He sighed. Leave it to his wife to be fine with him spending the night at a gay strip club.

"You have an alias yet, Sherlock?" John called, digging out a pair of jeans and a pair of combat boots of his own closet and laying them in the bathroom.

"Yes, I'll use the one I used the last time. I figure you can go as John Smith." John snorted. Wasn't that just original, he thought to himself.

"And that would be?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Sherl Compton."

"Isn't that a bit obvious?" John asked.

"That's the point, John. It is so close to my name, no one would suspect it of being me," he said, coming out in his dressing gown carrying an armload of clothes John had never seen. He dropped them on the floor. "I'll have to wash them, I don't think I did after this case the last time, they stink of cigarettes and sweat…" he muttered.

Sherlock kneeled and sorted through the bunch and picked up a pair of black leather pants that John arched a brow at. "Hrm, need to take this to the dry cleaners…" He picked up several other shirts that looked way too small to John and another set of leather looking pants, this one time red. He picked those up and stood up. "I'll be back, John, I'll have to pick up some other things for the look."

John blinked and then went to go through the pile. Sherlock was right, they smelled awful, so he gathered them up and took them to the wash, pausing to glance through them as he went. Plain colored t-shirts, mesh shirts, short vests, and a bunch of different scarves and fabric belts. All of them could be washed, so he put them all in. Sometime later, he brought them up in the basket and folded them. Sherlock came in bearing a couple bags after that.

"What'd you have to get?" he asked, taking the dry cleaning backs and laying them across the couch.

Sherlock sat at the table and unloaded the bags. First he pulled out makeup, khol, pan base, and lip gloss. Then a bunch of hair products, including a highlighting kit. He grinned at John and held it up. "Can you help with this? Last time I did it myself and it didn't turn out well as I would have liked…"

John shook his head. "Yes, what else have you got there?"

Sherlock nodded and continued unloading the wares. Deodorant in a strong scent, a vial of oil, a chained wallet, a black leather choker, and a matching set of cuffs, a card with several earrings on it, and a necklace with a thick ring.

"Well," John said, looking over the stuff and holding up the necklace. "This have some meaning?" he asked.

"Shinji said that they've had quite the BDSM crowd in lately, so I picked that up to entice them to talk to me a bit, in case our stalker happens to be among them," he said with a grin.

"Why does this mean BDSM?" asked John, truly curious. He honestly had no experience in that lifestyle than getting the occasional person in the A&E because of consensual damage. Those were always uncomfortable and it was so hard to sort out what was domestic violence when someone said it was their way.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's an O ring. One of the earliest novels about BDSM is a slim volume called _The Story of O._ Because of that, it has become symbolic. I'm not advertising as a Dom or sub, that'll be up to them to decide. Last time I dabbled in this group, they assumed me a Dom without any prompting. It kept me from getting hit on, and gave me a chance to ask questions and have them answered."

"So you're playing gay, then?" John asked.

Sherlock arched a brow. "Of course, it's a gay club, John. I have to play the part. Help me apply this stuff, first."

John sighed and played hairdresser for his best friend. He was amazed by the softness under his fingers, though and he smiled subtly as he finished. "There you are, set a timer for half an hour, then wash it out," he told him.

Sherlock nodded. "Now, I've got some research to do before we go, I'll be in my room. We'll leave about three for the club so we can get our new employee orientation."

John shook his head and went about his day. After finishing with the paper, and calling in for a week of personal time from the surgery, he went and cleaned up, amazed by the flood of junk in their previously pristine bathroom. He hoped this case didn't last long. Just as he came out, Sherlock was going in. He looked over John in the t-shirt and jeans and nodded.

"Good, you'll fit in with the bouncers perfectly, John, despite your short stature," he said with a nod before closing the door.

John clenched his fists and shook his head, seating himself with tea before he punched Sherlock and made him more convincing as a member of the BDSM community. Before long, he came out of the bathroom and John couldn't believe his eyes. He looked like a completely different person. He moved over to the table with his normal fluid grace and attached the chain wallet to his belt loop through which he'd tied a red scarf. He was wearing the impossibly tight leather pants, and even so managed to get the wallet into the front pocket. He put on the cuffs and choker with the silver necklace that dipped almost to his navel. His shirt was a very tight fitting t-shirt in deep purple with a deep v that revealed his defined collar bones and the muscles of his pectorals. In truth, there wasn't much hidden because of the tautness of the shirt. He smelled of something…

"Patchouli," Sherlock supplied, pulling the cuffs tight. "Overcomes any other smells surrounding it. Considered erotic by many in the club scene, and hippies."

He'd put on the pan makeup, smoothing out his skin tone even more, and applied thick khol around his eyes, making their light color pop even more. His hair was done with gel and the soft curls were spiked out around his head in a tastefully "just rolled from bed" way. The blonde highlights they'd put in his hair only made it stand out even more than normal. He'd used gloss on his lips, making his defined cupid's bow lips stand out. John blinked rapidly and swallowed. Well, that was an odd reaction to seeing Sherlock like this. And here he was a married and not gay man at all.

"Now, is this sufficient to cover my identity, John?" he asked, arching a brow.

John nodded. "I'd say. Let's go, then. Almost three."

Once outside Sherlock looked at him. "We'll go with the story that we're flatmates, keep your ring on, say that you're married but having difficulties with your wife so you're staying with me for a while if anyone asks questions about it."

"Good enough," John said with a nod.

They hailed a cab with Sherlock's amazing cab summoning ability, and rode in silence. John paid as they pulled up in front and then exited. Sherlock stood stiffly for a second and then closed his eyes and relaxed into a stance completely unlike his normal. He shifted his weight to rest mostly with a hip cocked to the side and when he walked, instead of the fluid grace he held himself normally with, he almost sauntered. John blinked and shook his head, following him into the club.

They entered the front of the club and Shinji squealed loudly. "Sherly!"

He came over and kissed his cheeks with a grin. "I forgot how damn tasty you looked like this, sweetie!" he said. Behind him a well-muscled man with short silvery hair came up.

"Kensei, I told you about when Sherly here worked for me. And this is his…friend…John Smith. Sherly is going to tend bar and John is Grimmy's new pet," he said grinning at the man. "Sherly, this is my boy Kensei, you remember I told you we met not long after you were here last time!" he said, pulling the man next to him into a one armed hug.

Shinji turned around. "Hallibel!" he called and a tall blonde woman came over. "Hal, honey, take Sherly here and get him ready for the bar tonight. Who is it tonight?"

"Mashiro and Rose are working the bar tonight," she said clinically. "Come, Sherl. I will set you up. I hope you haven't forgotten your training from last time."

"Nope, Hal, sugar," he said, and John heard the slight accent he put into his voice. It was strange, hearing his voice altered so drastically. He watched him walk away curiously.

He felt a hand clap his back and looked up to see Grimmjow. "Oi, hey there, John. Ready to meet the rest of the crew?"

John nodded. "Sure thing, Grimmjow."

"Please, just Grimm. You met Kensei already, he handles the security of the strippers and the drag shows inside here. He likes to keep a personal eye on Shin," he said with a wink. Kensei nodded and left.

"Quiet, huh?" John responded.

"That he is, come on," he said, leading toward a room in the back that resembled a break room. Inside there were a bunch of people in the security shirts all lounging around and chatting. They looked up with curiosity as the door opened.

"Guys, this is John, he's starting tonight. John, this is the crew." He pointed to a huge man with spiked black hair. "Kenpachi, but we call him Kenni," he said, pointing to him. Then, to a huge dark skinned man with a bald head. "Zommie," he said. "Kenni and Zommie are both on the line during the first part of the night." Next he pointed to a tall girl with green hair and huge breasts. "Nel, no touchy, though John, because she's Halibel's, the blond that runs the bar." He gestured to a man with light skin but a star shaped afro. "Love," he said. "And hands off him, too. Him and Mashiro are together." He then pointed to an extremely short man with silver spikey hair. "And Toshiro, but don't let his size fool you, boy is deadly dangerous. And finally, Ikkaku, here," he said, gesturing to a built bald guy. "And watch out, his boy strips, Yumichika. So watch the wandering eyes on that one. Ikkaku and Love are on the line the second half of the night."

John and the security crew talked at length for a while, discussing where their experiences came from and what got them into the security gig. He found them all fascinating people and looked forward to actually getting to know some, if not all, of them better. "Now, let me take you to meet the dancers," Grimmjow said with a nod to the others. "You'll be inside, of course, and I've put you on stage duty. Kensei has the backstage, but I want you at the front."

He led him back behind the curtain and there was a flood of cursing and yelling. "Fuck! Fuckin' hell, Uryu where the goddamned hell is the fuckin' outfit for tonight!"

Grimmjow sighed. A dark haired man with glasses came out holding a pile of dark blue material in his pale hands. "I just finished, Ichi. Calm down, such a drama queen!"

A young man with blindingly orange hair came out of the back wearing a pair of low rising jeans that had rips down the sides came out and shook his head. "You know I can't stand to be late, I'm first on tonight!"

"Ichigo, you go on at six. It is not yet five," the dark haired man said softly.

"Well, you shove your cock and balls into a thong and see how long it takes you to tuck and go!" he commented and went back behind the curtain.

"No thanks, I just make the costumes," he commented, rolling his eyes.

"Fuckin' give me more crotch room, then!" he yelled from behind.

"If I did that, you wouldn't be happy either, because then you'd fall out on stage, then where would you be?" he said with a sigh, then looked up to realize they had company.

"Grimm, what's up, who is this pretty boy?" Uryu asked with a grin.

"Uryu, this is our new bouncer, he's working front of the stage tonight. His name's John. This is Uryu, our costume designer. And you met our lovely queen, Ichigo."

"Not fuckin' gay!" came the response from behind the screen.

"Keep telling yourself that, Ichigo," Uryu called back.

"Fuck you, Uryu."

"I would like you to, but that means admitting that you are gay," he responded, his face never changing from the blank expression.

There was a snort from behind the curtain. Uryu shook his head and then groaned as a man with straight pink hair grabbed him from behind.

"Uryu, sweetheart, stop trying to get Ichigo in bed, I'll take you in a heartbeat!" whined said pink haired man.

"Szayel, new bounce, this is John, John, another of the drama queens, Szayel," Grimmjow said, smirking.

The pink haired man waved at him. "Hey, at least I own up to being a drama queen. I am the biggest queen around here! Uryu, you got my outfit for tonight? I love doing the slutty maid shtick," he said, eyes twinkling at the thought.

"Yeah, come back to the office," he said and waved good-bye to the bouncers.

A second later a man with long, wavy blonde hair wandered in in a pair of jeans and no shirt. "Dammit," he muttered.

"Rose, new bouncer, this is John."

Rose looked up and smiled. "Hey, I work the bar, but I dance too, and I've lost my shirt…" he muttered, and wandered away.

A moment later a short blonde woman came storming in. "Ichigo, where is your lazy ass?" she called.

Ichigo came out from behind the screen and glared at her, half dressed. He was wearing a cop outfit tonight, it seemed, and he was working on the shirt now. "What do you want Hiyori, I'm not lazy, I'm dressing, dammit!"

Hiyori shook her head. "Will wonders never cease," she said and looked to see Grimmjow.

"What's this, newbie?" she asked.

Grimmjow nodded. "John, new bouncer, this is Hiyori, she is the woman that runs this place back here with an iron fist. John's on the stage, so I was introducing him to the dancers. He's met Ichigo, Rose, and Szayel so far."

Eventually, he met the rest. Szayel's blond brother, Ilfort, another blonde haired man named Findorr, a short effeminate man named Luppi, a short man with blond hair named Tesla, and a dark haired man with feathered decorations in his hair named Yumichika. Many of them were Japanese, going with the Japanese theme of the place. Of course, there were those off that night he'd meet later.

John really got a look now as the lights were all on before the place opened at six. The walls were deep red and decorated extensively with pictures and posters of Japanese origin. There were couches in the same theme, and the cocktail waiters and waitresses wore kimonos. Granted, they were short, but the influence was still there. The stage was heavily draped with black and red curtains, and even the stripper pole was metallic black instead of silver. He finally headed over to the bar and watched Sherlock. It was odd, seeing him totally pull of the act. Every move confirmed he was nothing more than a gay bartender, his hand motions and tilt of his head and lilt of his voice. He saw John and came over.

"Oh for godssakes I forgot how touchy these people were," he commented in his "Sherlock" voice.

John crinkled his brow. "How are you going to handle that, you aren't keen on having people touch you casually," he said, knowing his friend all too well.

"Part of the act," he muttered, grinning as the pink haired stripper suddenly draped himself around Sherlock's back and frowned with a pout.

"Aw, are you taken, pretty?" he asked, giving Sherlock a lecherous grin.

"John's my flatmate," he said, smiling but John knew it was fake.

Szayel reached down and fiddled with the chain with the O ring. "Hrm, we may have to arrange something, you are quite the hottie," he said, and slapped Sherlock's ass as he walked away.

"Wonderful," he said with a groan and rolling his eyes at John.

John shook his head, amazed at Sherlock's ability to act. "Well, I've got to get in position; they've got me watching the stage. Perfect place to keep an eye on stalkers."

Grimmjow walked up then and handed him a walkie talkie. "Here ya go, man. Channel's open to all the crew, you need help, just let us know."

"You meet the target?" Sherlock asked, looking around.

John snorted. "Yeah, he's…quite the diva from what I can tell."

"But he claims not to be gay," Sherlock said, scanning the room and absorbing everything he could.

"Obviously in denial," John supplied. Sherlock looked at him with an arched brow.

"Is he now?" he asked.

"Of course, you'll see when you meet him, speaking of which," John said as the orange haired stripper came towards him.

"Hey!" he said, waving at him and jogging over. He was dressed in a police uniform with handcuffs and a baton on the waist, both plastic, and a hat sitting crookedly on his head.

"I saw you backstage, but I didn't get to say hi," he said, taking John's hand. "Ichigo, but they call me Strawberry Black on stage," he said rolling his eyes. "My name is a homonym for the Japanese word for Strawberry, so they figured it worked. And first part of my last name is the word for Black, so there ya go. Anyway, your name was John, and you're?" he said, looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock reached his hand out and smiled. "Sherl, working the bar. Worked for Shin a few years ago," he said, shaking Ichigo's hand.

"Ah, well, anyway, I'm first up tonight, so I'll see you guys later," he said, running back to the stage.

John looked at Sherlock for his deductions. Sherlock frowned. "Definitely not gay, in fact, I believe he's asexual, mostly because of a bad experience, but not interested in women at all, if he finds anyone attractive it will be a man. He's scared, quite badly, though, so I think this stalker is getting to him, he just doesn't want to admit it. He enjoys working here, definitely what you would consider the diva of a show, loves to be the center of attention. He's not quite what you'd call an effeminate, and has a black belt of some sort, haven't decided in what. He's lonely, and apparently his family doesn't approve of his job…" Sherlock said finally.

John blinked. "Not even going to ask how you got all that, I'm not surprised though."

Sherlock smiled as Shinji came up. "We're opening in ten, Ichi-berry goes on first, John, so keep an eye on the audience, see if anyone sticks out. If they do, get a description and have Grimm run a check on them immediately. Sherl, honey, keep your ears open at the bar. And remember, Grimm and I are the only two that know why you're here, so let's keep it that way."

Sherlock nodded and headed back to the bar while John headed to the position he would take by the stage. In moments, the door was opened, and people began pouring in, some heading for the bar immediately, others to the tables where the cocktail waiters and waitresses took their orders. A few went to mill in the dance area. It seemed that the strippers danced and between shows, the rest of the club ran like a dance club. Then, the music would change to the stripper's, and people either could watch the show, or continue their dancing in the other area. This meant that there was a wide variety of people in the club, both straight and not.

John sighed, looking around as the area around the stage filled in fast, the strong techno beat in the background already giving him a headache. He hoped they played real music for the strippers…


	2. Dance for Me, and Me Alone

John looked up as the music lowered to manageable level and watched as Shinji came out from behind the curtain holding a microphone. He wore a slick pair of leather pants and a bright pink t shirt with the club logo on it.

"Good evening, Las Noches!" he said with a grin. Cheering went up around him. "Are you ready for tonight's entertainment?" Another round of cheering. "Enjoy yourself on the dance floor, or come over and pay my boys a visit, and few dollars, huh? Again, welcome, and give a round of welcome for our opening performer tonight, giving a hot performance to 'Every Breath You Take', Strawberry Black!"

Shinji disappeared behind the curtain and the music began. Ichigo came out, a strut to his walk, one hand on his hip above the handcuffs, the other hand behind his neck. John had been to strip clubs, but never a gay strip club, so he was fascinated by the way he danced; he was all curves and moves. He pulled moves he was sure were not possible around the pole. The kid's upper body strength was positively amazing… He scanned the crowd and didn't find anything unusual, but he'd never watched a crowd at a strip joint before so he'd have to see if anything changed between now and the next performance.

Finally, he came to rest in a split at the end of the runway, stripped down to a thong with a police badge on the front which was stuffed full of bills by this point. He leaped up with grace and bowed and ran back down to the curtain. There was a rousing round of cheers and then the music switched to the dance floor to wait for the next show. Grimmjow wandered over and smiled.

"Hey, wanna go chill with Sherl at the bar? Get yourself a coke or something while we wait on the next show," he said and John nodded, already getting parched. He headed up to the bar and sat down on a stool, getting Sherlock's attention.

"Can I get a soda?" he asked. Sherlock nodded and handed him one before turning back to a customer.

Sherlock had to lean over as a girl told him her order in his ear, but before she pulled back, John saw her bite his earlobe, giving him a start. He smiled and handed her the drink and took her money. John wondered how often he had to deal with that kind of thing. So he opted to wait there and watch. Sure enough, of few minutes later a man was giving his order and as he leaned back licked Sherlock's cheek. Sherlock fought the urge to grimace and handed over his drink. He rolled his eyes at the blond man, Rose, who had found his shirt apparently. Rose leaned over and said something to Sherlock and John caught the flicker of unease in his eyes as he looked out into the room. A few minutes later, Shinji came over and said something to Sherlock. He rolled his eyes and shook his head but Shinji was pleading, on his knees.

Sherlock growled and threw his towel down and stalked out from behind the bar after Shinji. John waved over Mashiro, a girl with bright green hair. "Where's Sherl going?"

She smiled. "Oh, Shinji is short one tonight. I guess Findorr is throwing up his toenails in the bathroom at the moment, and he doesn't have anyone for the next show. So he asked Sherly. He's done it before."

John swallowed, and glanced across at the stage. Grimmjow surprised him with a clap to the back. "Time's up, bud. Looks like your mate Sherly is going on next. Don't worry; he's doing a tease, not the way down like the regular boys do. Not that you care, eh?"

John went back to his position and wondered just what the hell Sherlock was going to do. Last he knew, he didn't dance, let alone strip… He may not be interested in his friend romantically; he still worried about it because they were after a stalker. He sighed as Shinji came out again.

"Hello again, Las Noches! Another show on the way, with a special guest, someone who hasn't graced my stage in five long years, but who hasn't lost a thing! I think he may have gained some…but here to perform to 'Doctor Love' by Kiss is Sweet Sherly! Don't expect him to strip all the way unless you're really nice to him…" Applause rang out and John blinked in surprise.

Sherlock came out, hips swaying expressively, eyes upturned, wearing a white doctor's coat and a pair of scrubs underneath. He had a stethoscope around his neck, and a badge. He wore a pair of glasses. He got to the end and leaned back against the pole, simply swaying with the music. He got some cat calls, so he tossed the glasses out into the crowd. A few whistles later, and he was wrapping the stethoscope around a guy in the front's neck and moving slowly in front of him. John was still confused by this version of Sherlock. Sherlock removed the coat, stalking around the edge and dropping it to his elbows before shucking it all the way. At the climax of the song, he reached up and ripped down the tear away scrub top and then glanced over his back and walked away as the song died down. He'd acquired quite a few bills in his short trip down. Applause followed him and whistles and cat calls. John wasn't sure how it made him feel. He knew Sherlock was acting…but to do that…. Granted, he didn't do near as much as the other performers, he kind of walked down and removed a few pieces then walked back. Enough to fill a song and get the catcalls.

After the show, when he waited at the bar, he saw Sherlock got pawed and touched a whole lot more by both men and women. He wondered when his friend's resolve would break. Honestly, he was sure it would have gone before then. But he kept up, the only thing showing his irritation was the tight set of his jaw that John noticed now and then. Finally, after all the shows were done and the night ended, or rather the sun was close to rising, John slumped into an empty table as some of the strippers went around helped clean up.

Shinji came out and sat down beside John with a sigh. "How was it?" he asked with a grin.

"Interesting," he said with a sigh. "I think Sherlock might blow a gasket before we get home though."

Shinji looked up and saw Sherlock was talking to Ichigo nearby. Ichigo…who never talked to anyone. Usually, the orangette was out the door before anyone else left, and he was talking to someone he had only just met. He turned to see John looking at the pair talking in the same way. Shinji knew enough about Sherlock's personality to know that he was not generally talkative unless he had to be.

Ichigo caught sight of the new bartender again as he was headed out. He was fascinated by the dark haired man. He was beautiful, that was all there was to it. And Ichigo rarely found _anyone_ attractive. He gave everyone a hard time because they said he was gay, and he refused to agree to it, but the truth was he didn't believe in the labels of heterosexual or bisexual or homosexual. If anything, he was asexual, because he honestly had never been interested in anyone at all, no matter the gender. But he had of course found others attractive, both male and female. Never had he actually done anything about that attraction. But there was something mysterious about this man.

So he sauntered up to the bar and watched him clean for a while and smiled when he turned around.

"What?" Sherlock said in surprise.

"Hey, just wanted to say hi," he said with a grin still. "Sherl, right? You with that new security guard, John?" Of course he'd be taken. No way someone as beautiful as this man would be single.

Sherlock shook his head. "No, John's my flatmate. I'm…not often attracted to others. Not that way." Sherlock didn't know why he'd say that. He was supposed to be playing the part of the gay bartender after all.

Ichigo smiled wider. "So like me huh, more asexual than homo huh?"

Ichigo caught the slight start. Aha, he wasn't expecting me to be observant like that, was he? "Yeah, everyone's on my case that I'm gay. I don't think so. I don't pick someone on gender, is all. Anyway, why are you really here?" he said the last in a lower tone of voice.

Sherlock paused. "What do you mean? I needed a job. I've tended bar for Shinji before."

Ichigo winked. "Nah, you don't need a job. And those clothes are so five years ago, obviously you dug them outta storage, honey, I smell the dry cleaning chemicals on you. And your flatmate over there couldn't be more uncomfortable here if he tried."

Sherlock didn't know what to say. "So why do you think I'm here?" he asked, sitting down the glass he was holding.

"I think that Shinji called you in because of my stalker problem, because he doesn't think I'm worried about it, when I am, of course. My idea of fun isn't being murdered because someone is obsessed with me. But I'm stuck; the cops can't do anything without evidence. So yeah, you and John show up right before the weekend and I think Shinji called you," he said, sitting back and crossing his arms and staring at Sherlock.

"Well, I wasn't expecting such…observation."

"From a stripper?" Ichigo asked, smirking at him. "I did go to school, you know."

"From anyone," he said. "Come on, I see Shinji and John are talking," Sherlock said, grabbing the younger man by the hand and dragging him behind him.

Ichigo blinked at the sudden contact but he went with it. It kind of felt nice; to have his hand wrapped in that long fingered one. They came up to the table and Ichigo dropped into the seat by Shinji.

"It seems, Shinji, your employee is more observant than you believed him to be," he said in his Sherlock voice.

Shinji groaned. "Ichigo…really? It's only been one night."

"Sorry, but John's just too obvious that he doesn't belong. I mean, he oozes the 'stay away I'm straight and married vibe' even if he wasn't wearing a ring. And this one is wearing clothes from five years ago that smell fresh from the drycleaners," Ichigo said with an eye roll. "But I'm not going to fight you on it like you think, Shin, really. You don't think I'm worried? I am. I really am. I don't really want to end up in the alley behind the place with a slit throat."

Shinji sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay, well…"

"Maybe he could stay with me," Sherlock said suddenly. "I mean, Mrs. Hudson is always downstairs, and I'm usually home, and since this is my only case…and since you sleep at the new place now, I'm alone the rest of the time. I've got the extra bed now too."

John frowned. "But what if someone sees him going in with you?"

Sherlock looked at him. "Put him in a hoodie to cover his hair and face, and if anyone asks, he's a college mate of mine staying for a week or two. There's no more danger of him being caught in my place than us being caught going between here and there."

Ichigo's phone beeped and he grimaced. "Right on time," he muttered, pulling out the fairly new smartphone.

Shinji looked uncomfortable. "What this time?"

"He's quite original. 'You can arrest me anytime. But I'm warning you, keep dancing, and you won't make it on stage next week. I've already warned you. You will dance only for me.' Oh great, now he's on about my dancing again," he said with a sigh.

Sherlock took the phone and scrolled through the messages. "So he was either here or he has someone watching the show for him. A good possibility because this kind of obsession is hard to hide. If he employed multiple people to limit the chances of one of them being caught… he would definitely be harder to identify. His aggression is getting progressively worse," he commented as he scrolled. "And it always comes in with no number like this?"

"No idea how he does it, the police weren't able to trace it," he said.

Sherlock grinned. "Well, they might not, but come on; I'll call when I get home. Maybe I have someone that can help."

Ichigo nodded, pushing the phone into his jean pocket. "Where do you live anyway?" he asked.

"Baker Street," Sherlock answered and ushered him and John out.

First they dropped John off and Ichigo watched him stumble into the flat. "So he doesn't live with you?" Ichigo asked.

"No, he got married recently, so I've got the Baker St place to myself now," Sherlock said with a sigh. "And it's Sherlock, actually, Sherlock Holmes."

"Well, you got my real name already," he said with a smile. "And John?"

"John Watson, so not too much different. Best to keep things simple, you know," he said as they stopped in front of the flat. He glanced at the clock as he paid the cabbie. "Almost six am…these hours will take some adjustment," he said softly. "Come on then, I'll let you meet Mrs. Hudson."

They went in just as Mrs. Hudson was coming around. "Oh, hello dear, and who is this?" she asked, glancing at Ichigo.

Ichigo was still mostly made up from the night before with the stage makeup and he was covered in glitter body powder. He wore a grey hoodie over his tight t-shirt and ripped jeans. He'd forgotten to change into regular shoes though, and was still wearing the heeled boots from earlier. He bowed slightly to her.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, ma'am," he said with a grin.

"Friend that will be staying for a bit, Mrs. Hudson. We'll be keeping late hours, though, so don't worry when we come in and out."

"Sherlock, what on earth did you do to your hair?" she asked, looking up.

"For my case, Mrs. Hudson, same as the clothes. Ichigo here is my case. He works at Las Noches club and he's got himself a stalker. So I'm letting him stay here to keep an eye on him, hoping that Mycroft's meddling will help with my case in the end," Sherlock said with a huff.

"Oh goodness, dear, you work at that strip club downtown?" she said. Sherlock blinked, always surprised by the things his landlady knew.

"Yes, ma'am, I do. Been there a year now. Started stripping for the money but it is really quite fun now," he said with a wink at her.

"Oh, that's nice, dear. Now, try not to make too much noise when you come in, in case I'm not up!" she said and walked away.

Sherlock shook his head and took him upstairs. "Well, there is another bedroom upstairs or you can use mine, I rarely sleep on a case, so I doubt I'll sleep today."

Ichigo frowned. "I'd rather stay nearby, if you don't mind…"

"Just down the hall there, past the bathroom. Feel free to use it, there's towels in there. I'm sure you'd like to deglitter…" Sherlock said with an arched brow.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," he said and headed into the bathroom, then leaned out.

"I didn't get any clothes," he said with a frown. "I mean, I don't mind being nude but it's your house, dude."

Sherlock blinked. "I'll get you a dressing gown," he said, going and retrieving a white dressing gown he never wore and hung it inside the bathroom door. "I'm taking your phone so I can see about finding a trace for that number," he called, hearing an affirmative noise among the shower water.

Sherlock sat down with it and pulled his own phone out and texted Mycroft.

_Could use your assistance on a case. Phone number the Yard cannot trace. SH_

_Send it to me. I may be able to help. MH_

Sherlock sent it to him and hoped that they could come up with something before he picked his phone up again and texted Lestrade.

_Any way I can get case files on a case about Ichigo Kurosaki? I've taken his case, he's got a stalker. SH_

_I'll drop by after work. That isn't really my division, Sherlock. I'll have to pull it from that division. -Lestrade_

Sherlock rolled his eyes and picked up his violin to think. He'd been on the stage, and he'd made sure to take the opportunity to find any people who were out of place, but how could you identify someone out of place among those at a strip club? He was perplexed. The messages were obviously obsessive. And they were getting progressively more possessive of Ichigo. And they went back almost to the day he started working at Las Noches. So what did that indicate? Someone who was a consistant regular for over a year, or someone who followed the new dancer from somewhere else. Well, the answer was in Ichigo's history of course. So that was his first step. He paused and heard clapping. He turned to find a still partially wet Ichigo standing behind him with a towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry, it was beautiful, I just couldn't resist coming out to listen," he said with a shy smile.

"Oh, no problem," he said, putting it down carefully.

"Don't stop on my account," he said. "Violin has always been one of my favorites to listen to. Never had talent myself," he said with a shrug.

"I play when I'm thinking, and I was wondering some things, if you want to answer some questions before you rest?" he asked.

"Sure," he said, flopping down into John's chair in his towel and leaning back, scratching at his wet hair. "I'm an open book, what do you want to know?"

"Well, this guy started in almost as soon as you started at Las Noches, so he is either a regular from before you started, or someone that was already following you. So I need to figure out which is the most likely scenario," Sherlock said, leaning back and watching him.

"Okay, well before Las Noches… Okay, well, my family moved to London when I was about ten. My mom was killed when I was nine in a mugging outside Tokyo, so we decided to move to London not too long after that when I dad was offered a job at that St. Bart's hospital. He's in pediatrics. Anyway, I got into Cambridge, majored in Japanese studies for a while, got bored, changed and studied archeology a bit, but didn't like that, so then I did some chemistry, and finally graduated after six years with my degree in English. That was about a year and a half ago, and I tried working as a teacher, and hated it so I quit, and that's when I met Shinji one night at the club. He asked me what I thought about dancing, and I tried out on amateur night. And that was that. I've been working four nights a week ever since!" he finished with a nod.

Sherlock frowned. "Anyone who you remember from school that you've seen at the club?"

"Oh lots. Well, no one I don't know personally. I went to school with Uryu, and a couple of the other dancers. But as far as the audience, if I don't talk to them, I can't tell you. You know what it's like on stage, the lights do a good job of blinding you pretty good up there," he said with a sigh, scrubbing a hand through his orange hair.

Sherlock sat thoughtfully for a moment and huffed a deep sigh. "So, it could still be either."

"Yeah, sorry, I mean that's not much help," he said.

"Any past relationships that could be coming up again?" Sherlock asked looking up. "Jilted lovers tend to be possessive."

"Nope, would have to have had a lover for that to happen," he said with a shrug. "Never even dated anyone seriously, I think the furthers I ever got was when I kissed Uryu when we were in college, and then a week later we found out we were cousins and that put a stop to that one…"

Sherlock tipped his head thoughtfully. "Cousins?"

"Yeah, the way my dad got the job here was Uryu's dad is my mom's cousin, and he works here at the hospital in cardiology, and got him the position with pediatrics. They didn't really talk much outside work, and Uryu and I went to different schools until we both ended up in Cambridge together. Then when I brought him home one weekend, dad told us about how we were related. At that time he didn't know about my experimenting with both sexes. But neither did much for me," he said with a shrug.

"I can sympathize there," Sherlock said with a sigh. "They can be burdensome attachments."

"But well worth it," Ichigo said with a sigh. "Would be nice if I could find one of those attachments," he said, brows knitting in a scowl.

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm unsure. You should sleep, we'll need to be aware tonight, with it being Saturday night, and the club should be busy."

Ichigo nodded and headed off to the bedroom, grabbing the gown as he went. Sherlock sat down and steepled his fingers under his chin and slipped into thought again.

-oooooo-OOOOOO-oooooo-

"Sir?" a voice came from the door.

"Enter," came the expected response.

"There is no that he has been deterred from dancing as of yet, sir. Who would you like to go tonight?" the man before the desk asked with a blank expression.

The dark eyed man ran a hair through his wavy brown hair. "Yes, yes, I think we should send a message tonight, send Nnoitra and Tesla. Make sure that they catch him alone with someone else, then have them beat their message into his friend, whoever it is. Time to escalate since my presents aren't seeming to attract his attention. Thank you, Tousen."

"Aizen-sama," the dark skinned man said with a bow and exited the room.

Aizen turned and faced the window that stared out over London. He'd followed the Kurosakis from Japan. And he was not about to lose his prize. He had put too much work into the boy to lose him now. Too much time, too much energy, and far too much money. Killing his mother and injecting him with the serum had been tedious, but then to have his father run off with Aizen's only test subject that survived… Very annoying.

He needed the boy for multiple reasons. Of course, it didn't hurt that he'd grown into quite a lovely creature on his own. The genetic enhancements no doubt helped. But most of them should have been to his mental acuity. He looked through the files again. Inside, there were transcripts, copies of his assignments from Cambridge, photos of him at various points, and most annoyingly, his penchant for wasting the mind he had been given on stripping. Granted, it only fed Aizen's own desire. He'd actually desired the boy for his own from his childhood, a sweet child with bright orange locks and those big brown eyes. But he was snatched from his grasp before he could take him and satiate the desires. He had always preferred younger men, and unfortunately, London's age of consent was higher than Japan's, which had caused him great annoyance.

Either way, he had to convince the brat to come to him. He could kidnap him, he supposed, but he would much rather have a willing partner in his endevors. To be honest, he wouldn't have begun trying to influence him to leave the club if he hadn't been afraid he'd gain other admiriers. That was unacceptable. And Aizen had to bide his time. It had taken time to set up his organization and finally things were to the point where he could do what he wanted instead of having to make sure Hueco Mundo was run properly. It was the main front for his underground network. Granted, it was a gentleman's club, and he ran his main prostitution ring out of it as well as his vast drug network. It brought in quite a lot of money.

But of course, before any of this, Aizen was a researcher and scientist. All of this illegal stuff was simply a way to fund his own research. And finally, he had set up his top tier men and women, his Espada as he called them, and they could run things seamlessly without him calling every shot. It had taken nearly ten years, but finally, things were to the point that he could delve into his work without fear of being pulled away for trivial things such as drug raids or weapons busts. London was extremely easy to work in, he found.

He had Nnoitra for the prostitution ring, Barragan for the drug trafficking, and Starrk for the guns. And all he really had to worry about was getting his prime test subject back. Of course, no one knew the reason he wanted the orange headed stripper. They simply thought it was their boss's perverse pleasure. But it was oh so much more than that. He had an experiment to complete. And if he was successful, he would be the most well-known scientist in the world, if the least ethical. He smiled. Infamy was better than dying unknown like his once friend Urahara would do…


	3. A Plan...Backfires

Ichigo woke to the unfamiliar bedroom and took a moment to access before his brain reminded him he was staying with Sherl. Sherlock, that was his real name. Strange name, considering he had dark hair. But then, who paid attention to the meaning of names these days anyway? Being Japanese born, names meant something, but here… He sighed and shuffled out of bed to find his clothes missing from the table so he grabbed the dressing gown and wrapped himself up. He wondered if what this guy said was true and he really didn’t sleep much? He opened the door and heard his voice.

“Really, Mycroft? You can have your men inform you what I ate for lunch, but you can’t figure out a phone?” he said flopping into his chair.

The doorbell chimed and Ichigo heard the voice of the landlady greeting someone and someone walking up the stairs. He checked the clock, it was almost five. They’d have to get ready soon…and he still had no clothes… Sherlock placed his phone down and headed into the bathroom. The shower started a second later.

“Sherlock?” came a man’s voice as the door opened. Ichigo, who had gone into the kitchen popped his head out and looked. “Oh, who are you?”

Ichigo smiled and put the tea kettle on and then sat down, holding the robe closed. The man was a handsome older fellow with silvery hair. Quite the silver fox, he thought.

“Ichigo Kurosaki,” he said with a nod of his head.

“Oh yes, Sherlock said you were here with him. Where’s he?” he asked.

“Shower, no idea, he was yelling at someone named Mycroft a minute ago.”

“Detective Inspector Lestrade,” the silver fox said, holding a hand out to shake Ichigo’s. He complied and sat back down. “I guess I’ll wait for him.”

Ichigo nodded. “Cup of tea, then?” he asked.

Lestrade nodded and Ichigo made him one and one for himself. He sat both down.

“I’m sorry for my state of dress; I don’t know what he did with my clothes…” Ichigo said with a frown.

Lestrade sipped his tea and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Ah, that would be a problem.”

Ichigo grinned. “We kinda rushed here this morning, I didn’t stop for clothes, and mine were covered in glitter and smoke. I’m assuming he took them after I de-glittered in the shower this morning.”

From the bathroom, Sherlock’s voice came suddenly. “Lestrade, is that you?”

“Who else, Sher…lock…” Lestrade said as Sherlock came down the hall in his outfit, hair set and makeup already on.

“Ready for you, I put a spare set of my clothes in there for you to wear to the club. Since you’ll be changing into whatever you’re stripping in tonight, I assume it didn’t matter what it was. We’ll leave as soon as you’re done,” Sherlock said, picking up the cuffs and choker and putting them on. He looked at Lestrade. “What?”

“Well, I have to admit, this is something no one will believe,” he said and before Sherlock could respond, Lestrade had snapped a picture of him. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“It is a case, Lestrade, I’m undercover,” he said. “Now, the file?”

Lestrade nodded, handing over the case file. Sherlock looked through it. “That’s not a lot of information,” he muttered.

“You know I can’t do much with this…” he began.

“I know, not your division. I’m hoping that it doesn’t become your division before this is over,” Sherlock said, putting the file down as Ichigo came out wearing the silk button down that was too long and the jeans that he’d rolled up a bit.

“Okay, Sherl, shall we? Maybe my stalker will reveal himself…oh, I got an idea!” he said suddenly.

Lestrade and Sherlock both looked at him with questioning eyes. “You pretend to be my boyfriend! He’s possessive, right? If he won’t directly go after me, because I’m the object of his obsession, then if you act the part of my boyfriend, he’ll try and go after you, but with John and the security staff on high alert, we’ll catch them before they get near us!”

Sherlock started to speak and then smiled. “Yes, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that already!”

“Sherlock, I don’t know, that’s an awful risky plan for you,” he said.

Sherlock shrugged. “How else are we going to draw him out?”

Lestrade frowned. “Just be careful, I gotta get home,” he said and waved to them.

Sherlock smiled at Ichigo. “Perfect, we’ll start tonight. You come talk to me at the bar between sets, we’ll go to our breaks together, and give glances back and forth, and maybe a kiss or two to make it seem more real. Yes, I think this might work!”

With that, they set off in a cab and picked up John on the way. John, however, didn’t like the plan at all. Sherlock groaned and asked how exactly they were supposed to catch the guy if they didn’t do something like this. John insisted on a long discussion with Shinji and Grimmjow once they got there. Ichigo and Sherlock reluctantly agreed, both convinced that their plan was utterly fool proof.

Shinji stared across his desk at the two men who were looking at him with a great deal of pride. “You are both fucking insane,” he said calmly.

Sherlock and Ichigo sighed and glanced at each other. John, standing behind them beside Grimmjow looked very smug.

“Yes, but if we don’t do something like this, who knows what will happen?” Ichigo said with his big, sad puppy brown eyes.

Shinji couldn’t ever resist his puppy dog face. “All right. But I want someone with you two at all times, someone on security, got it?” Shinji said, shaking a finger at them.

Both Sherlock and Ichigo nodded. “Yes, no problem.”

“Alright, get out there and shake your ass, Ichi. And you, go serve drinks, Sherly.”

With that, the group exited, Ichigo and Sherlock deciding how best to play that they were together. “Rumors,” Grimmjow said. They looked at him.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. “Tell Szayel you’re dating. Everyone in the club will know in hours,” he said with a shrug and headed off with John.

Ichigo nodded and grinned. “I’ll get the pinky.”

Ichigo headed back to the dressing area in his too big clothes and caught Szayel’s attention immediately. “Oh my god, Ichi what are you wearing?”

Ichigo glanced down. “Oh, well, I kinda stayed over with someone today on the spur of the moment and I didn’t take any clothes…”

Szayel’s golden eyes widened. “Who? Did you fuck him?”

Ichigo crossed his arms. “I don’t kiss and tell. And no, there was no ‘fucking’ going on. I had a pleasant morning, that’s all.”

“Who?” Szayel begged, dropping to his knees. “Please I have to know!”

“No, you’ll tell everyone!” Ichigo said, moving to go past.

“Oh, it’s that new bartender isn’t it? I saw you talking yesterday…” Szayel said.

Ichigo opened his mouth and shut it. “I’m not telling,” he said and turned and walked off with purpose.

Szayel grinned. “It is! I’ve got to find Uryu…he has to know too!”

Ichigo grinned as he watched him head out to blab to everyone in hearing distance. Perfect. He got dressed into his outfit for the night. He was dressed like a female stripper tonight, hot nurse, it seemed. He sighed. He really didn’t like the cross dressing shtick. But oh well. He wasn’t paid to be choosy after all. He was on second tonight and he waited until Luppi came off the stage.

“They’re hot tonight, Ichi-baby,” he said with a grin.

Ichigo went out and did his routine and as usual, he felt exhilarated by the experience. He really did enjoy it. It was freeing and empowering and so much more. Now and then he wondered why he did this. He was smarter than most the people he went to school with but he was really good at hiding it from everyone around him. He was also more agile and stronger than most people he knew. But he also hid that well. It served him very well in dancing though. He had two shows tonight, one early and one of the late ones, so he headed back and put on something skimpy and headed over to the bar to talk to Sherl.

He was grinning because for one, he liked talking to Sherlock. And for two, he was excited to catch whoever was stalking him. Sherlock seemed to be one of the few people that could keep up with him intellectually. And he was a damn good actor, because no one would have guessed he wasn’t a gay bartender. Except for Ichigo of course. He tugged the belly shirt a bit and straightened the extremely short shorts he’d put on and hopped up onto the barstool closest to him.

“Sherl!” he called loudly to get his attention. By the look, he knew he’d already seen him.

He moved over and slid a sprite down to him. “I’ve got break in ten,” Sherlock said with a nod and headed back to serve a few more drinks. Ichigo grinned. He looked down the bar and saw John sitting there drinking his soda. A quick glance around showed that Renji and Nel were hovering nearby. It was safe enough. He hoped.

Finally, Sherlock put down the bar rag and slipped out, reaching out and taking Ichigo by the hand and leading him away from the bar. John stayed put, but Nel moved parallel to them as they headed into the back. Once there they both dropped side by side into the sofa.

“This is an exhausting case,” Sherlock said thoughtfully. “I am afraid I may actually sleep at some point if this takes much longer.”

Ichigo looked at him. “You don’t sleep when you’re on cases?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No, not usually. I don’t normally eat either, it slows down my thinking,” he said, running a hand through his hair wincing as his fingers caught on the gel in it. “Ugh, I hate this part, I feel like my hair is plastic.”

Ichigo grinned. “Yeah, but you look good with it like that. You’ve got such nice hair,” he said and reached up to touch the stiffened curls. “I don’t know many people with curls. I hope we catch this guy soon, stupid _teme._ ”

Sherlock glanced at him. “I’m afraid Japanese is one of the languages I do not know. The eastern languages are one of the few language groups I haven’t studied.”

“Teme means basically bastard, I guess is the best way to put it. Just you wait, I’ll have you speaking Japanese in no time,” Ichigo said with a wink. “Shall we continue the show and you plant a sweet little parting kiss on my cheek when you head back behind the bar and I’ll hover on the stool and you can steal touches now and then?”

Sherlock nodded. “An acceptable approach for our first night ‘dating’.”

They headed out, both Renji and Nel nearby and John still at the bar. Sherlock leaned over and kissed his cheek quickly and went back behind the bar to have Rose start chatting immediately. Ichigo went and slid back onto the barstool and watched Sherlock’s every move. Part of it was his genuine interest in him. When he was playing “Sherl” he was a different person. It was amazing the way he could act the part so well. He watched for the subtle things that would tell him what really interested the man, but Ichigo found it impossible to tell. He was too good at playing the part. Everything about him said “gay bartender that dances on the side”.

John kept glancing down at him and back around to see if anyone was watching them or trying to figure anything out but the place was packed. Soon, Ichigo waved to Sherlock and blew him a kiss and ran backstage to change clothes.

Sherlock was impressed by Ichigo’s acting ability as well. He was good at the scene. He sighed and tapped Rose.

“I gotta hit to loo,” he said and Rose nodded.

John got up and followed behind but didn’t go into the bathroom just yet, Sherlock knew he’d go in fifteen seconds after Sherlock entered it. However, fifteen seconds wasn’t fast enough for what happened in the next ten.

As soon as he pushed the door open his alarms went off and he should have listened, but with John less than a minute behind him he didn’t think anything of it. What could happen in that short amount of time? The second the door closed behind him his face and temple exploded in pain and his vision blacked out. The next thing he knew, he was blinking and trying to shove a light out of his face.

“Goway,” he muttered.

“Sherlock?” he heard John’s voice coming from far away. “Sherlock, I need you to wake up.”

He blinked and groaned in pain that was flaring in his head. “What…what happened…?”

He heard the door open and close and heard a familiar sounding gasp. “Oh good gods, Sherlock!” came Ichigo’s voice and he felt hands on his shoulder. Sherlock realized he was laying on a sofa, probably the one in Shinji’s office, and the reason his head was blazing in pain was because someone had struck him the minute he entered the bathroom. He blinked again and sighed.

“Stupid!” he said sharply. “I should have known…”

“I got a text,” Ichigo said and Sherlock couldn’t see but he guessed he was handing John his phone.

“Next time I won’t be so kind to your boyfriend. Stay off the stage, and stay away from him,” John said with a sigh. Sherlock heard the door open and close again.

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Shinji said, voice irritated.

Sherlock kept his eyes closed and waved a hand in the air. “Nothing major, I expected something like this, however, I didn’t expect it this soon. This means the plan is progressing better than I expected.”

“Better than you expected?” John said with a sigh. “Getting your head nearly bashed in by someone is better than expected?”

Sherlock sat up slowly and opened his eyes in the dim light to the concerned faces around him. “For godssakes, it isn’t that bad. I suspected to be attacked at some point. No, we continue with the plan. It is _working_. Someone attacked me. That means we drew someone out.”

Grimmjow had been quiet up until then. “Yes, but we didn’t catch them, Sherlock.”

“But they did a hit and run to prove a point to Ichigo, that they could get to him, and thus me. If they’d taken any longer, John would have been in there with me. Besides, this gives you a reason to step up security and keep someone on me and Ichigo without looking suspicious. That was the only reason we were pausing between me entering and John entering. Now that isn’t necessary,” Sherlock said with a nod of his head.

“Alright, alright, but that’s it for tonight. Both of you, go home. John, Grimmjow, escort them back to Sherlock’s house. Grimmjow, stay with them there, please,” Shinji said, rubbing his face. “Last thing we need is for them to break in while you’re asleep.”

Grimmjow nodded. “No problem, Shin.”

“I don’t need…” Sherlock started.

“No, don’t start. If I didn’t have a pregnant wife at home, I’d stay, but Mary’s going to kill me and you both if I am gone too much on the case,” John said, glaring at Sherlock who rolled his eyes in response.

“Fine, he can stay in your old room, then, John. Not like I’ll sleep today anyway,” Sherlock muttered and stood up, wobbling a bit. Ichigo put an arm around him.

“Come on, boyfriend,” Ichigo said with a smirk. “I’ll help you out, come on boys,” he said waving at John and Grimmjow who followed a few paces behind as Ichigo helped Sherlock stay upright.

They got into Grimmjow’s car and headed off, dropping John at his home first, then heading to Baker Street. Grimmjow was quiet and thoughtful as they went, glancing into the mirror in the back seat. He smiled to himself though because he realized that Ichigo hadn’t moved his hand off Sherlock’s shoulder since they left the club even though there was no reason to keep it there.

They headed into the flat and almost ran into Mrs. Hudson. She looked up at Grimmjow. “Goodness, you’re a big one,” she said.

“Oh, Mrs. Hudson, this is Grimmjow, he’ll be staying tonight,” Sherlock said with a wan smile.

“Dear, what happened to you?” she asked, noticing that his nose was swollen and the side of his head was bandaged.

“Bad run in on the case, I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Oh dear,” she said. “I wish you’d be more careful!”

Sherlock smiled and walked up the stairs, steadying himself on the bannister as he did and went into the flat and flopped onto the sofa.

Grimmjow looked around and nodded. “Interesting…” he said with a smile.

“Ichigo, show him around, and up to John’s old room. I’m going to my mind palace for a while,” he said, steepling his fingers under his chin and closing his eyes.

Ichigo nodded and showed Grimmjow up the stairs and then back down to the bathroom and the kitchen. Grimmjow opened the fridge and then closed it.

“Ichigo, is that a human foot?” he asked.

Ichigo nodded. “It is. And whatever you do, do not open those containers in the freezer,” he said with a shiver. “Ugh.”

Grimmjow nodded. “Okay…what…” he said finding containers full of strange moldy substances in the cabinets where the dishes should have been.

Ichigo shook his head and pointed to the paper plates and cups. “Yeah, don’t go digging around. He leaves experiments everywhere.”

Then the silence was broken by a jaunty violin behind them. They turned to see Sherlock playing furiously and Ichigo realized that it was one of the popular songs that plaid at the club between shows. There was no way that he had ever seen sheet music for it, it was a recent song, and no doubt at the club was the only time he’d heard it, yet he was playing it perfectly on the violin. Grimmjow was still as well watching as his hands flew over the instrument. Finally, he finished and sighed, putting away the violin carefully and sitting down in the chair by the window.

“Sherlock, you should go sleep some. You didn’t sleep yesterday,” Ichigo said, coming over with a cup of tea.

Sherlock sighed. “I’m still coming up with nothing. I don’t have enough information to formulate a stratagem that will work and ensure the safety of those around us.” Sherlock took the cup without thinking and sipped at it. He frowned and looked down. “What is this?”

Ichigo grinned. “Green tea with chamomile. A special mix I like to drink at night.”

Sherlock frowned but sipped it slowly as he stared out at the night. It was just past eleven now and he was exhausted. It didn’t take long before his eyes were drooping. He stared at the cup blearily. “What…” he muttered and looked up at the doubling Ichigo.

“Okay, I confess, I added a little of my sleeping pills to it for you. You need the rest. Don’t worry, I checked with John, he said it was okay,” Ichigo said and Sherlock felt consciousness slipping away as he fell into the man beside him.

Ichigo patted him on the back and looked up at the amused looking Grimmjow. “You help me get him to his bedroom?”

Grimmjow nodded and lifted him up and stumbled backward. “Damn, he’s light…” he commented as Ichigo led him to the bedroom. He started rummaging for some pajamas and found some pants easy enough.

“Here, help me change him. Those pants can’t be comfortable to sleep in,” he said, unbuttoning and unzipping the leather pants he was wearing, flushing a bit since he realized he wasn’t wearing any pants underneath the leather. He quickly slipped them off with Grimmjow’s help and pulled the pajama pants on him. He then took a minute to remove the jewelry and took a warm rag and wiped off the pan and kohl. He then covered him up and searched up another set of pajama pants and went and showered. He came back and slid into bed next to Sherlock and faded off to sleep.

Grimmjow looked in a couple hours later and snorted. Ichigo had obviously tried to sleep opposite Sherlock on the large bed, but Sherlock had rolled and draped one are and one leg over him in his sleep. It seemed to Grimmjow that Sherlock was lonely, even if he didn’t want to admit it to anyone. He went back and sat down in the living room and turned on the telly when he heard a noise and looked up to see a man standing in the doorway. He was on his feet in a second.

“And who might you be?” the figure asked, tapping an umbrella on the floor in front of him.

“I should ask you that, mate,” Grimmjow said, looking around.

“Well, I am Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock’s elder brother. And I came by to find out who else was in his flat,” he said, stepping into the light to reveal a man in an expensive tailored suit and a look that seemed very similar to one that Sherlock wore all the time.

“Grimmjow, I’m head security at Las Noches, and I came by to keep an eye out for any trouble for him or Ichigo while they’re working Ichigo’s case,” he said, reaching out and shaking hands with the man.

Mycroft nodded. “Well, it would seem you’re lacking, considering he was accosted tonight. Why does he always get himself in these situations?”

Grimmjow shrugged. “His plan to play Ichigo’s boyfriend to draw the stalker out. He seemed pleased that he got attacked, said it meant the guy was paying attention. We tried to argue with him, but he seemed adamant that this was the way to catch the stalker since nothing else is working.”

“So that’s his plan,” Mycroft said with a sigh. “I’ll double his detail in that case. I’ll be in contact if I can find anything more out. Please let Sherlock know that the phone is being kicked through a satellite link and then back through cell towers, so tracing it isn’t easy. We need to be on the line when a call is open, the signal sent by a text isn’t long enough to get a fix.”

And he was gone. Grimmjow sat down and sighed. It was definitely going to be a long next few days.


End file.
